


The Letter

by EvertheOptimistWaywardAF



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, POV Mary Winchester, Past Torture, SPN - Freeform, spn spoilers, supernatural season 14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21618253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvertheOptimistWaywardAF/pseuds/EvertheOptimistWaywardAF
Summary: Mary tells her life story, explaining her actions and her opinions on what happens to her in CW's Supernatural. She explores her past and her new reality after season 14.
Relationships: John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Kudos: 5





	The Letter

I’m not sure how history will view me. I don’t know. I know that before, I was painted as a perfect saint, a martyr, a loving mother, but honestly? It doesn’t match at all. My father was an asshole. He trained me and my brother to hunt at a young age. He taught us to bury our emotion, to be perfect, obedient soldiers. It’s not surprising that didn’t work.  
My brother left the hunting life. Dad never mentioned him after that. He moved somewhere… I think it was Greensville, or something like that. Dad forbid communication, or even mentioning his precious son’s name, but I heard that my brother had a family. I would later discover that he put up a gravestone for me, not long before Azazel killed his entire family. He hasn’t been seen since. Even Sam and Dean didn’t seem to know much about my brother, not even his name. I think he has been forgotten in history.   
I stayed with my parents because I had nowhere else to go. I wasn’t interested in guys, no matter how many nice hunters my dad would bring in. He wanted me to continue the hunting line, keep the monsters at bay. I didn’t want to. Only a fool would want to raise their children to kill. I guess I didn’t have a choice in the end.   
I met John at a movie theater. I had gone alone to a horror flick- I loved horror movies back then- and I had been leaving when I ran into him- literally. I knocked him down on the pavement. John would tell it like I ran into him and he fell. The way it actually went is that he ran into me and I may or may not have had a flash second where I thought he was a vamp and flipped him onto the pavement. I think I sprained his wrist, but John would never tell. He invited me to coffee, and for some reason, I agreed.   
He was a junior mechanic, just returned from the war. He had the same look in his eyes that I did… the look of being trained to kill, and understanding the gravity of it. He was the first guy who made me smile. He was charming, with black hair and gorgeous eyes, and I started to feel like Juliet. John could never know the truth about me, about my family. Of course, my dad didn’t approve, but he eventually found out. John tried to charm him, but it didn’t work. Dad wasn’t a fan of this… normal guy. Of all the men I could’ve picked, it had to be one that didn’t know about monsters and horror… he knew all the lyrics to my favorite classic rock songs, understood my pain, and most of all- he was kind.   
John would change. Everyone changes, but… I heard things about him, later on, that made me regret ever making the choices I did. We really were like Romeo and Juliet, but I would discover that was a terrible thing to be. John and I would go to lengths to be together- which ended in many deaths and so much pain, especially for my sons. I would like to say I saw warning signs. I would like to say I wasn’t selfish and in a honeymoon phase, and that I hadn’t just made a deal with a demon. Like I said, I would do anything for John… and I decided to trade something to Azazel to get what I wanted.   
I didn’t know what it was, back then. All I knew was that I loved John, and that John was dead, and that I had to bring him back. My parents died that night too. I won’t say they deserved it. I also won’t say that I miss them. Sam and Dean would later be named after them. It’ll be John’s idea, not mine. I’ll agree, and I’ll hope they grow up to be better than my parents. They are. They really are. I wish I hadn’t made the choice I did- I wish I had better warding, I wish I had taken better care- I wish- but I know what happened, and I know I messed up.   
The following years, I decided to live my life carelessly. The date came and went, and nothing happened. Those four years, of having Dean, and then Sam, in my life, were the best, even as John and I struggled. Dean was the sweetest boy I had ever known. He had John’s charm, and his skills- I knew Dean was extremely intelligent as a kid. He could get through any lock, fix his toys when they broke- John said he was going to teach Dean how to fix the car, maybe when Dean was nine or ten. He was so smart. I never even got to know Sam. He was a quiet but happy baby. Dean adored him.   
November 2nd, 1983, was the night my life changed. Sam had been born in May, just like Jack would later be, so he was six months old. There’s some irony there, I think. Jack would become my Sam. I met Jack at six months, years later. He was quiet, but happy, just like Sam. I wouldn’t say my life ended that autumn night, but my Sam and Dean did. I wouldn’t recognize them. They would go through things that would change the base of who they were.  
Everyone knows this part. Everyone has heard this story. This is the story of the woman in white, the innocent woman who walked in by accident, the fire in the nursery. This is the story of a different woman. I was not this woman. I knew who he was. I knew what he was there for. I knew I had to protect my son. I lunged for the rifle in the closet but it was too late- my holy water, my warding- nothing had worked. It was way too late.   
I don’t remember. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to. I only know this story from what Sam and Dean told me- that a fire started in the nursery, that my husband heard me scream, ran upstairs to find that I was dead. He took Sam out of his crib and handed him to Dean, and Dean ran from the house. The firetrucks came. They saved the house, but the Winchesters were already gone. John had taken my sons in the Impala, and he was already on a mission to discover the truth- so he headed to Missouri Moseley.   
I don’t know much about the following years. I honestly don’t remember. It was like being suspended in time- empty, in the darkness. I know Dean didn’t speak. He suffered from something they would later call ‘selective mutism’. Sam was bright but sad. John was often away, drinking or working, which left a very young, anxious Dean in charge of a baby. Dean saw Sam’s first steps. Sam would always be the courageous brother. He was the one who was more willing to defy what was expected of him. Sam always looked forward for new ways to be creative, to learn, to grow. Dean lost some of those skills. He’s intelligent, but it takes him some time to ajust. He doesn’t like change. He doesn’t trust easily.   
Sam became lonely, and needed an imaginary friend to cope. He told me this, later on, that he’s sure that’s the only way he survived. They never had friends. They didn’t have family. They had each other, and while they loved each other, it wasn’t good or healthy for them. Sam knew this. He started to make allies, mostly with teachers, librarians, and a few kids, while Dean remained lonely. I don’t want to blame John. I understand what he went through, but I can’t help but wish John had been there. I wish I had been there.   
I wouldn’t see them again until 2005. I guess I never really left. I don’t think it was for John. I think I had to apologize to Sam. He wouldn’t know yet. He’s happy now, and I think he’s fine with his reality, but he never should have gone through the pain that he would in the following years. I was so naive.   
Everything is blurry after that. Heaven was lovely. I still felt like I had unfinished business. I remember a voice calling me, a woman’s voice. I followed it, and I woke up in a field. I called out. I was alone, and scared, until a stranger walked out of the woods. He approached me and I pinned him down, absolutely ready to murder him. He said he was Dean, but he couldn’t be, because Dean was a four year old- until I remembered. I was dead.   
We sat on a bench and talked. I would miss this moment. I remember his face as he told me everything. He was on the verge of tears, a soft look in his eyes. I was an attentive listener. He knew the truth. He was a hunter. He had saved the world (twice). He wasn’t the engineer. He wasn’t the smart young boy I left. He was sad. He was bitter.   
Sam had changed too, obviously. Instead of being a quiet but happy baby, he was a quiet but strong adult. He was intelligent, brave, and kind. He was everything I wanted him to be and more, only that he was a hunter, and he had been through so much pain. I hadn’t wanted that for my sons. I ran away from the truth for so long, and now I was standing here, the butt of some cosmic joke. And Dean had a friend, finally, named Cas.   
I went on some hunts with Cas. I didn’t trust him at first, but we made quite a team. He reminded me a little bit of my brother- the ‘I-do-not-understand-this-reference’ and ‘I-love-cats’ attitude. Cas is a cat person (rather, angel), through and through. Cas and I would become very close. He was like a son to me. He was just as screwed up as I was. We were both brainwashed and we both rebelled. Cas, Sam, and Dean were very tight knit. They had become their own little family, just the three of them. I didn’t belong.  
Let’s just say I made mistakes. I wasted time that I now wish I had spent with Sam and Dean. It was painful… trying to reconnect to adults I barely knew, expecting them to be my sons. I needed time and space- and I used that time and space to screw up even more. I met Arthur Ketch and we had a fling- that kept flinging. I should’ve seen the warning signs. I should have never given him attention, because the more I noticed him, the more obsessed he became. I didn’t even realize what was happening around me- I didn’t even notice Jack until it was too late- until I had been brainwashed and then saved.  
Dean brought me back and it was like a light had switched on- THIS WAS MY DEAN! This is my family! This is who we are! I was so happy- at least, until Sam and Dean informed me that Castiel was on the run with a woman named Kelly who was very pregnant with the antichrist. Cas thought he saw something in the child, and they had run off together, and now Lucifer was back and headed toward them. We had to do something.   
That night is blurry. I remember telling Sam and Dean that I loved them. I remember holding Kelly’s hand- before I knew her, she had just been a problem. Maybe she had the charm of a cult leader, but knowing her, it just made sense. I asked her why she would give up her life for her son. She asked me one question. Wouldn’t you do anything for your sons?  
I would. Yes, I would.   
I knew then that I would protect Jack. I knew I would do my best to keep him safe, to help him grow up to be happy and healthy. I knew that somehow, Jack would be the answer to everything- that he was at the center of the chaos, and that there had to be a reason for all of my pain that involved him. I put too much on a child. We all did.   
I woke up on the floor. Kelly was dead, and there was a baby. He wasn’t crying, but he was glowing gold. I picked him up, smiling, a little worried he was radioactive. I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye and ran to the window- Cas was dead. I set the baby on the bed and ran down the stairs. I did what Kelly said- I would do anything for my sons.   
I don’t want to talk about what happened next. You can ask Jack, if you’d like. I’m not sure how long it will have been since I wrote this that you will be reading it, whether he’s ready to speak about the other world or not… but I’m not. Michael captured me. Tortured me for months. Eventually Jack showed up. I didn’t know who he was. I stared at him blankly, sure that he was just a dream. Michael hurt him in ways to leave no scars. I think Michael had a whole complex about Jack, that Jack was precious and yet nothing mattered beyond his wings and his grace. Jack’s soul could be damaged, and Michael wouldn’t care.   
As long as it didn’t leave scars.   
Jack was smart, like Dean. He could pick locks- or rather, he could pick warding. Michael let his guard down and Jack found a way out. We ran.   
Jack was impulsive, but so was I. That’s how we survived. We were found by Bobby Singer and he took us in. I knew that Jack’s power would be revealed quickly so I told Bobby the truth. He seemed shocked at first, but then accepted Jack like a son. We took care of him. He was the ace up our sleeve in our fight against Michael. Jack wanted something more than to make Michael suffer and we aided him.   
We lost people. Jack lost control. He took out his power on Michael’s troops. We should’ve seen the warning signs, that Jack was barely able to keep his powers in check. I knew he would be alright. I trusted him. He trusted me. The Jack I met in Michael’s stronghold was different from the Jack I knew now. He wasn’t innocent anymore. I could be considered a terrible guardian, for letting Jack fight, but really, there was nothing I could do. I tried to get him to run. Michael was targeting him- that his own nephew would have the audacity to run away, taking a prisoner with him, to help the rebellion. Of course, he didn’t.  
Dean and Cas would soon arrive with other hunters, declaring that they had opened a portal, and that they only had a few hours left. I was the first to see them. Jack was asleep when they arrived. I cried, embracing Dean, out of surprise and pain at the loss of my little son. Sam was gone. Sam was dead. Somehow, Jack’s reaction was bigger than mine. He was angry. He blamed Castiel. He paced back and forth by the lake, muttering to himself about how it wasn’t possible, how they were lying, how Sam was about to show up, triumphant, that Cas and Dean didn’t try hard enough. He couldn’t understand. He’d never hunted like I had. I watched my friends die. Jack didn’t believe in death.   
The bell rang, and we all turned to the gate. Someone new was coming. I felt my heart freeze, like time had stopped, as my son, my baby Sam walked through the gate, covered in blood, his eyes heavy. He looked at Dean, then me, and he started to smile. Then he looked to Cas, and finally at Jack. For a second, it looked as if he was elated, then he looked broken. I knew that face. I saw it in the mirror. It was familiar to me, the face of somebody who realized what they had done- what they had sacrificed. Sam had led Jack’s father right into the rebel camp. He had led him right to Jack.   
We all headed out, all of us with Jack’s father. They talked. I knew Cas and Dean were angry about that, but they couldn’t stop him. I knew if they tried, Jack would only want him more. When they asked my opinion, they told me the truth. I wish we had warned Jack better. I wish we had done something… anything. Jack never sought his father out, but he always appeared when Jack needed help the most, and that was our undoing.   
The end started when we got through the portal. Rowena was on the other side, holding it up. She was strong. I remember the way she smiled, the way she had power in every movement. I wouldn’t talk to her much, but I would admire her. I would later hear that Michael had arrived, and Gabriel had tried to fight him, to save time. Dean crossed the portal, leaving Sam and Lucifer. Lucifer made a run for the portal, but Sam pushed him. I don’t blame Sam. If I was there, I would have made the same choice.   
Jack was in mourning. He didn’t know the truth. He thought his father was dead. He knew his uncle was. He only had a biological family for a few minutes, and now they were gone. I watched him as the rest celebrated. He was alone, silent, holding a fanta-filled beer bottle in the corner like he wanted to drink his feelings but knew better than to do that. I didn’t go near him. I knew it was bad to mess with Jack when he was emotional. I always knew that. I just wouldn’t care, one day. One day, I would put my concern for him over my own safety. But that day wasn’t today. When Maggie, Jack’s only friend, died… he snapped.   
I wasn’t really there that day. I know he wandered off into the woods after a fight at the gas station. I was the one that found her body, the one that brought her back home. I watched as everything fell apart, as Jack discovered his father was the murderer. I watched as Jack lost his grace and Sam grabbed onto his body, unwilling to let go. I watched as they vanished.   
I was told to run. I shouldn’t’ve run. When I returned, I found Castiel, alone, in tears. He looked up to me, his eyes wet, telling me that he couldn’t sense Dean anymore.   
Sam returned hours later, carrying Jack. For one second, I swear everyone thought Jack was dead. There was too much blood. Sam was determined, lying Jack down on a hosptial bed and stitching up his stomach, bandaging his broken nose. Jack wouldn’t wake up until a few days later, after several visits from Castiel. Sam didn’t talk about what happened but we already knew. Jack was quiet. He didn’t mention much either. He didn’t start talking until long after he had healed, when he asked Bobby to teach him how to fight.   
It was around this time that Bobby and I got together and we looked after Jack, once again. Castiel and Sam were absent from his life, despite the fact that he spent most days only a few feet from Sam. There was something unspoken between them, something that happened in the church that Sam didn’t want to face and that Jack just couldn’t.   
If they had talked, maybe it would’ve stopped what happened next. Michael screwed with us, playing games. Jack was slowly and painfully dying. I heard Sam and Cas’s calls, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I just… felt empty inside, just like I had when I returned from Heaven. I didn’t want to see Jack die. I know it was selfish. I should have been there. My life is a series of should haves but I simply chose not to be there. I couldn’t be there.   
I called back when I heard he passed away. We didn’t talk. We just cried. Dean hatched an ingenious plan to get him back. They did it. It was a miracle. I heard Rowena happily laughing, embracing Jack. He was okay! He was back! It was amazing! No strings attached!   
We should have seen it coming. 

The day I died started out softly. I woke up in the Bunker. I was staying there. I had just broken up with Bobby, after I had realized that I had only ever really loved one person, and pulling Bobby along was just… unfair. Seeing John again had thrown me through a loop. I listened to my favorite led zeppelin songs, helped Dean wash Baby, talked with Jack. Everything seemed normal and alright. I believe he was just a good actor. He was so good at acting that he wasn’t aware he was acting. I don’t blame him. I don’t.   
Jack wasn’t lying. He really believed what he was saying. He said he was fine. He said that he felt empty, but he hoped it would get better. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

I’m not sure how history will view me. I would like people to know that what happened what an accident, that Jack didn’t feel anger toward me and that it was terrible. I know most people will take sides. I know Sam and Dean will take sides. This is my story. 

Jack was scared. He was alone. He had almost lost Sam once again. He didn’t take death lightly, and he couldn’t bear to loose another parent. He had already lost his mom. He was not going to loose Sam. When he returned, he was shaken, so frightened. When I tried to talk to him, to calm him down, he brushed me off and stormed away. Whatever I did next, it was going to end badly. If I had let him go, he might’ve gotten hurt. If I had let him go, I would let him leave thinking that he was alone, and I could not let that happen.  
I followed him. I told him it would be okay. He pleaded with me not to tell Sam and Dean about what happened. I said no. I explained why. Jack was acting strange. His hands were to his ears and he started shouting. I think he was hearing something that I couldn’t hear. I followed him, and I grabbed his arm. He screamed. It was over in a second. 

I heard his voice. He was calling my name, like a prayer, hoping to God that I that I was just invisible or hiding nearby, waiting to jump out and say “gotcha”. Jack was a child. He still is. I know Dean was silent when he first heard. I know you cried. I know Dean made a plan. I know Jack tried to bring me back. I know they tried to trap Jack, and then to kill him. I know Castiel tried to protect Jack. I know they fought over what happened. They weren’t there. They couldn’t understand. Castiel didn’t care whether or not Jack was innocent. Either way, he’d find a way to protect him. Dean found him guilty.  
And finally, I know that there was a standoff in a cemetery. I know that Jack surrendered, and I know that Dean pointed a gun at his forehead, but in the end, Dean never shot.   
Jack told me this story on one of his visits. He comes by. The first time, he was in tears. It had only been a few weeks. He doesn’t get a lot of time. He wishes he knew where you are now. He prays to Cas, but he doesn’t think Cas can hear. If you see Cas anytime soon, Jack requests that you tell him he loves him, and that he loves you, and that he’s sorry. I told him he doesn’t need to be sorry. He says he’s sorry anyways.   
Jack says he’s happy with Billie. He’s been training for something big. He’s getting better. His soul is healing. He can’t wait to see you again. We love you very much, and I can’t wait until we can finally rest. I love you so much, Sam.   
I’ll see you on the other side,  
Mary Winchester


End file.
